Side By Side
by SoulFire Nova
Summary: A story written as a series of one- to three-shots beginning before the Orokin war with the Sentients and spanning the time from then to the present game era. Very AU so expect multiple lore changes. Friendship fic, with a possible romance in the future, my co-author and I haven't decided yet. Rated for language and graphic violence.
1. Earth

**Ok, so, I realize that my friend and I are late to this party, and this does not go along with the Second Dream** ** _at all_** **, but in our defense, we started this before that lore update was created. We didn't want to toss it and we're still working on it. So, now that's out of the way, here's the chapter, this one from my friend...  
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Private Connor "Stock" Woodstock checked his rifle again, you could never be too sure with these things. You could check it once over, twice over, even three times, and yet it would still find a way to get jammed in a dire moment. He was part of the third Orokin combat marine regiment, an infantry unit, the lowest of the low, which meant there were plenty of those moments to go around.

He finished checking over his rifle while the rest of his squad filed into the drop ship. He hadn't had much of a choice when it came to joining the marines, after he completed his schooling he wasn't given many options in how to live. He could have gone to the factories where they processed food into paste, he could join the Orokin Empire's military force, or he could become a servant to a high born Orokin family. His choices were limited. It was either choose a job or one would be chosen for you, and refusing to serve at the whim of the Orokin Empire was punishable by immediate death. His family worked in the factories, he knew what that was like, long hours handling the foul-smelling processed food, potentially being poisoned, with the added perk of possibly being maimed by the machinery. That was a no go. As for becoming a servant of a family of the High Born class, that was also a no. Sure it might pay a bit better than working in a factory, but once you were assigned a family they owned you. You worked for them and devoted your life to them. They had complete control over you, they could abuse you in any way the saw fit, and even kill you on a whim without reprimand. So he'd chosen the marines, at least this way he could see the stars for once before he ended up blasted into space by a rebel torpedo.

He checked his rifle again, ejected the magazine, ejected the round in the chamber, opened up the rifle and checked inside to make sure all the moving parts were still inside and still operating as they should. After putting the rifle back together he cycled the bolt a few times to make sure it was well oiled and would cycle a new round when fired, then inserted the magazine and cycled the bolt again to chamber a round. As he was doing this he noticed a commotion just outside the drop ship, it sounded like arguing. Glancing out the rear hatch of the drop ship he saw Corporal Jensen arguing with Sergeant Booth. "I'm not going back out there again, man! I have done three drops already, and every time we hit dirt side we get slaughtered! No way!" the corporal spat, flat refusing to move any closer to the drop ship.

The sergeant never got the chance to respond as a shot rang out and the corporal crumpled to the floor. A new man walked into Stock's field of view baring the insignia of an Executioner on his shoulder. Executioners where the enforcers of the Orokin Empire, their word was law and they backed it up with a lot of muscle and in Stock's opinion, a massive anger problem.

"Disobeying a Direct order from a superior officer is punished by a court marshal and 20 years hard labor with any rights and honors granted to the family revoked," the Executioner declared, holstering his sidearm, "Disobeying a direct order from the Orokin Empire is punishable by death. Does anyone else feel the need to weasel their way out of this jump?"

No one spoke up, all returning to their own business, and those who were still on the flight deck rushed back to performing their duties in order to avoid incurring the Executioner's ire. Seeing that there were no objections the executioner turned and spoke to the sergeant while indicating Private Stock's drop ship. The sergeant nodded and walked back onto the drop ship and spoke to the marines inside.

"We are going to have a special guest with us on this drop," he informed them, "What you see and hear on this drop, should you survive, you will never repeat to anyone outside this ship. This mission has become classified, Top Secret. Before you start asking questions about what it is that classifies it as such, the only thing you need to know is that our great empire has come up with some new weapons, something that may help us turn the tides in these gods forsaken wars."

With that he turned around and nodded to the Executioner and the Executioner then turned and nodded to someone out of Stock's view.

There had always been myths and legends when it came to what exactly happened to the Zariman, a seed ship said to have been sent to colonize planets in the Tau system. Some said that it disappeared for five years and then popped into existence from nowhere, abandoned. Others said it wasn't as abandoned at all and that it had come back filled with monsters that the Orokin Empire was now using to create weapons to be used in these wars, weapons called Tenno.

Stock had never given much thought to the matter, always believing that the entire story was a myth. There was never such ship as the Zariman, and there was nothing ever found on board. It was a bed time story told to children to make them behave. There were no records of there ever having been a Zariman. If it had ever existed it would be impossible to cover up, a ship that size contained thousands if not millions. There would be build records, logs of when it was in port, photos of the ship, photos of those who had traveled on it. There was nothing of the sort. And yet, walking up the gangplank onto their drop ship was exactly that. A myth; a legend. Legends have a way of punching you in the gut, knocking the wind out of you when they are proven to exist. Standing before Stock was a six foot tall slender but blocky… figure which looked vaguely humanoid. He couldn't tell if it was human or not though due to it being completely encased in metallic alloy armor.

The armor was black and gold, common colors in the Orokin Empire and particularly in their military, but that was where all similarities ended. There was a faint glow enveloping the thing's hands and pulsing up the arms to fade away just above the elbows and it carried a rifle slung across its back. At one side it carried a long sword that resembled the ancient blades old earth samurai warriors had carried, and at its other side it carried a pistol.

"Hey, man, nice suit! Where can I get one of those?" he heard one of his fellow marines ask, all sarcasm intended he was sure.

"Stow it marine, you are not to talk to this thing," Sergeant Booth snapped, "It is not human, just a mindless weapon here to aid our fight in the upcoming battle."

With that the drop ship's hatch rose and the airlock sealed itself closed. The machine stood motionless as the drop ship rumbled to life while Stock took to checking his weapon again. It turned its head ever so slightly in Stock's direction as he released the bolt to chamber a round and he decided to leave the safety off. He didn't trust this thing. If it was what he thought it was then it was no good, nothing but a monster with a collar around its neck.

"Stand by for jump!" the pilot's voice sounded over the cabin speakers.

The lights dimmed and then flicked to the red emergency lights. There was a bright flash, then a moment of disorientation and nausea.

"Jump complete, 10 minutes to drop zone."

The lights flickered back on and Stock looked around the cabin noticing some marines doubled over with the heads in between their legs expelling their breakfast. But the thing still stood where it was, arms crossed and motionless.

"Shut up and listen up," Sergeant Booth bellowed, "We're on our final push to taking back our planet from these rebels. They have held prime real-estate for the past ten years and their lease is up! We're going to go down there and kill anything that doesn't run. If it runs, kill it anyway. First squad with me, second squad with Sergeant Woods. Third squad with Lance Corporal Havoc and the Tenno."

With that Sergeant Booth confirmed what Stock had feared: he, a member of third squad, was in the company of a monster…

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 **That's it for now. Hope you all enjoyed it!**


	2. Assault

**Second chapter, this one written by me.**

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"Stand by for jump."

The pilot's voice rang over the comm. system and Anya settled herself more firmly into her stance. She had only just finished her training to operate the warframe she was currently wired into, but the so-called rebel uprising had apparently rattled enough cages that even brand new tenno had been pulled in to assist various military units. She relaxed as much as possible, ignoring the activity around her until she heard someone giving orders, tuning in just in time to realize she'd been attatched to the third battle unit. She knew exactly which bunch of marines that meant because all of them reacted.

Most looked completely terrified and they all moved just a few more inches away from her, although one of them seemed to have done it on instinct rather than out of any real intention to avoid her. He wasn't overly tall, a flat six feet in his socks, but well built. He had black hair and somewhat pale skin, and as she watched him he checked his rifle with the practiced hands of someone who'd taken the weapon down and put it back together again enough that it was second nature. She watched him work the gun three more times, then there was a split second of vertigo and the ship started to drop toward the planet.

The marine chambered a round and his hands went still as the drop ship's loading hatch cycled open and they could see the planet speeding by. Anya resisted the urge to put a hand to her mouth. Not only would it have done nothing to relieve the sudden nausea, but her instructors and her handler had informed her that any indication that she was anything less than invincible would be viewed as a sign of weakness. She doubted the men on the drop ship cared what she did at this particular moment though, some of them were doubled over losing their breakfast and all of them were watching the opening like they expected something very unfriendly to come through it toward them at any second.

She looked toward the marine she'd been watching earlier and saw the same apprehensive look on his face as all the others, then when she moved slightly he flinched and gave her a slight glare. She doubted he'd intended to, it looked like it had been reflex more than anything, but she still felt a little guilty for having startled him. Even though she was familiar with warframes, she had to admit that the featureless glass or metal face plates were anything but friendly to look at, and the fact that they were one way and mirrored did not help. She could see out, but no one else could see in.

She went back to studying him, and smiled a little. She was no expert, not by a long shot, but after being surrounded by elderly scientists for her whole life, being near someone more or less her own age was like seeing the sky for the first time again. And this marine was rather a good looking young man, strong jaw, bright hazel eyes… She squashed that train of thought. Never mind what he would do, if her handler found out she was thinking things like that it wouldn't matter, the marine wouldn't survive and she would regret being born. She didn't want to see him die.

"Drop point one in range, you are cleared for ground assault."

The first sergeant and his combat squad dropped out of the ship, then ten minutes later Second squad dropped.

"Approaching drop point three."

"Gear up, marines," Lance Corporal Havoc ordered, "Remember what Sergeant Booth said, tenno is off limits. We drop, we do our job, we get out. Clean, quick, easy."

Personally Anya doubted there would be anything clean, quick, or easy about this. She knew about earth. She wasn't supposed to, but she knew. The so-called rebels living there were families, people who'd run away from the cruel oppression of the Orokin Empire. Anya blinked her eyes furiously. She and the marines would be killing defenseless women and children, there would only be a few scattered reservists there to defend the young ones. She looked again toward the marine she'd been watching off and on and he flinched, giving her a brief glare before shuffling away from her to the side.

"Alright, squad, we're cleared for drop, scramble! Tenno first," the lance corporal growled the last order as the marines headed toward the hatch.

Anya bowed her head, eyes closed, deep breath, then she raised her head again and strode to the edge of the hatch. One more deep breath, then leap, dive toward the planet, change position at the last moment, touchdown, straighten, done.

This was the first time she'd touched the ground since before the terrible nightmare of the Zariman. She wanted to savor the moment, to enjoy the feeling of having something solid and good under her feet again, but there was no time for that. The marines had hit dirt side and were moving off toward their objective. Anya scrambled to catch up, easily falling into step with the front line of infantrymen.

She heard a bolt cycle in one of the weapons again and instinctively turned to see the marine look up and meet the gaze of her faceplate. He slapped his gun closed and glared at her, and Anya faced forward again. Alright, so maybe his glare earlier actually had been intentional. She didn't blame him though, the sergeant had done his best to make sure none of the marines would see her as anything other than a monster they had to be afraid of.

She didn't have time to dwell on that however, because right then the jungle just ahead of them exploded and the marines scrambled for cover. Anya hit the dirt and scuttled into the underbrush, narrowly avoiding the hail of bullets that peppered the forest floor where she and the marines had just been. She didn't want to kill these people, she didn't think they deserved it, and if she had been the only one who would pay she might have point blank refused to go farther. But the marines would take flak from high command if the mission was a failure, and Anya didn't want to find out how far the brass would be willing to go to make their control stick. Anya crept through the undergrowth to a massive tree root stretched across their path, then turned and motioned for the marines to follow. Next she conjured a massive orb of antimatter, and as it floated in the air before her she began pumping rounds from her assault rifle into it.

The black-haired marine gave her an uncomprehending look and she stopped, conjured another glowing orb, and sent the first one over to an approximation of the place the attack had come from. The ball touched down, sat there for a split second, then detonated, the huge explosion obliterating everything organic within a five meter radius and melting the dirt at the center to glass. She then directed the second one to the other side of the path and set it down. It exploded as well, but not nearly so impressively, merely singing the foliage around it and leaving a scorch mark on the earth. The marine nodded his understanding and she nodded back before creating another orb, directing it up into the air for them to shoot before sending it down the forest corridor and planting it well behind the rebel lines.

The orb detonated, and the rebels retreated. Stock wasn't surprised, not one of them on either side had ever seen anything even remotely like this in all their time fighting wars. The tenno slumped for a few seconds, then it was up again, vaulting the tree root and ducking into the undergrowth at the side of the path. Occasionally the foliage would move, indicating approximately where the thing was, then all movement ceased for several long moments. The other marines started to get antsy, but just as Stock started to think he couldn't stand it anymore the tenno popped out of the bushes and jogged back to where they were hiding, gave a slight nod, and slinked off again. Once they'd taken up their new positions it brought two more orbs into existence and the marines dutifully filled them full of assault rounds, at which point the tenno sent them floating to seek out more targets, setting them down on the ground and blowing away all cover.

Stock almost felt sick as he saw what happened to a human body caught at the outer edge of the blast zone. You apparently didn't always die right away, but that didn't stop flesh from melting and running off bones to land sizzling on the ground. He chanced a glance at the tenno, expecting no reaction as the dying man shrieked in utter agony, but the odd construct was on the ground on its knees with its hands clamped firmly over the sides of its head. Almost as if trying to shut out the sound. Curious, he dared look a tiny bit closer and realized that it was shaking, and the thought occurred to him that maybe this thing really wasn't a monster at all. The tenno seemed to like this destruction about as much as he did, which was frankly not at all. A shot rang out and the horrific screaming stopped, and Stock looked up to see Havoc's rifle pointed squarely at the dead rebel's head.

The tenno however didn't seem to notice, it was still on its knees, its hands were still clamped to the sides of its head, and its body was still shaking. The other marines all moved as far away from it as they could get, and when Stock looked at Havoc for help the lance corporal raised his hands and backed away. Stock nodded. He didn't really want to touch it either, but they had a mission to finish and if the tenno shut down here then the marines would pay for it, probably with their lives. He gave it an experimental nudge with the toe of his boot and the tenno jumped, looked at him for a long moment, then seemed to gather itself and stood back up to follow them on down the path.

The next time they needed an orb the tenno seemed apprehensive, as if not quite sure it wanted to make another one, but eventually it did cast one, raising it into the air for them to shoot and then floating it to where the rebels were hiding. This time they were expecting the inevitable aftermath and the marines made short work of the rebels, none of them wanting a repeat of the previous experience.

Stock was now paying a good deal of attention to the tenno, and as they continued pushing the rebels back he was starting to notice things, little quirks that didn't quite fit. For one thing the movements weren't jerky the way they would be if it were a machine, and the joints were particularly articulated, it could clearly handle a rifle as well as any of them could. It had also seemingly developed a tick, he noted that it would twitch whenever an enemy cried out in pain, especially when the tenno had been the one to fire the shot.

He would never have thought such a thing were possible, but he now found himself almost feeling sorry for whatever kind of creature was trapped inside that armor. He had a sneaking suspicion that it was at least a little bit human, otherwise he doubted it would be hesitating every time it went to create one of those floating death orbs. None of the others seemed to have noticed any of this, they were just as afraid of the tenno as ever, but Stock was well over that by now. He was certain that it would not hurt them. Unfortunately these new problems were slowing them down, third squad was about twenty minutes behind schedule at this point and Corporal Havoc gave him a frustrated look. Stock gave the tenno another gentle nudge, which seemed to break it out of the odd trance it had fallen into, and the squad began to move forward again.

It was a long, hard battle, the forest was thickly over grown and they often had to hack their way through with machetes. On top of that they rarely saw the enemy before they were peppered with machine gun fire, and they lost two men before the squad stopped. The tenno soon gave up worrying about what the orbs did though, opting for protecting the marines and getting rid of the rebels instead. Eventually they managed to blast a way through the thick jungle, and soon they were ready to take the first of the rebel staging posts.

Just then Corporal Havoc's radio chirped and he motioned for them to halt. "Third squad, what is your position?" Sergeant Booth demanded.

"Outside the forward staging post, sir," Havoc answered, "Awaiting your orders."

"It's about damn time, marine," growled Booth, "Alright, First and Second squads will create a diversion and draw the rebels out. Third squad, you and the tenno make sure they can't get back in. Divide their forces, and eliminate them. No prisoners."

"Sir, yes, sir," Havoc acknowledged. The radio chirped again and went silent. "You have your orders, marines," Corporal Havoc said, "On my signal. Tenno, be ready with one of those bombs."

The tenno gave a barely perceptible nod. They sat there for several minutes, but then there was an explosion and the rebels in the base cautiously began going after the First and Second Squads. Havoc gave the signal then and led them through the hole two of the marine's had been busily cutting into the thorny hedge surrounding the compound.

It turned out though that not all of the rebels had gone after the other two squads, and when all of Third Squad was inside they were ambushed. A bullet slammed into Stock's left shoulder and he dropped to his knees, gasping at the pain as he fumbled with his pack. The next thing he knew there was a flash of steel and his pack had released the stranglehold on his shoulder allowing his vision to clear enough to see what was in front of his face. The first thing he saw was a black and gold metal boot, and he realized that the tenno must be standing between him and most of the gunfire, then as he looked up he saw it roll the biggest bomb he'd seen yet between its hands. The tenno floated the orb into the air, pumped three full clips from an assault rifle into the bomb, and launched it through the doorway into the tallest building. It melted the edges of the stone walls on the way in, then there was a surprised yelp right before the orb detonated.

The entire bottom and second floors were vaporized in that split second, and the shockwave from the blast caused the rest of the building to crumble in on itself. Unfortunately it also radiated outward, and the marines scattered, scrambling to find cover before they were in any serious danger. Stock didn't have time to move, he was still half strapped into the pack and his shoulder was making him see stars, but he was surprised a second time as the tenno bent toward him again.

It unsheathed its sword and before Stock even had time to see it move the straps holding the pack to his body released. The tenno tossed the sword away and dropped to one knee beside him, looping his good arm over its shoulders before wrapping its own arm around his waist and hauling him to his feet, guiding him behind a wall and helping him to sit down just before the shockwave from the blast caught up with them.

Stock lay there against the wall panting for several moments, then looked at the tenno. Its armor was scuffed up and the sword it had carried was missing, still on the dusty battleground no doubt, then as he watched it put its hands to its head and its shoulders started to shake. They stayed there like that until the fighting had died down, then the tenno helped him back to his feet. He nodded his thanks, then they made their way to where Corporal Havoc and the rest of the squad had regrouped and were waiting for them.


	3. Camp

**Now it's getting good. Chapter written by my co-author.**

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"Just look at it! It looks so fucking stupid! There is no way this isn't a robot."

Anya felt someone poke her helmet. She just sat there trying to hold back tears. These marines had been at this for the last five minutes. Questioning whether she was a human or a robot. She wanted to jump up and grab them by the neck so they couldn't get away and start poking them in the head to show them how it felt. It had been 48 hours since they landed, and by now they had already set up a makeshift base camp. The marine she'd rescued sat across from her, quietly cleaning his rifle. He was so calm and peaceful in comparison to the rest of these guys. How could he stand them? They were loud and obnoxious and rude and vulgar, always making jokes about their manhood.

"Well, shit, obviously the scientists weren't that smart if they made a humanoid robot," the first one said, "Fuck man, if I was to create a robot it would have like, eight legs, and machine gun turrets everywhere!"

"Simmons, you're not even smart enough to tie your own boot, you… you boot fuck," the second one retorted, "How do you expect to create a robot? What are you going to use? The silly string in your backpack?"

"Hey man, I'm just saying," Simmons protested, "If I was like smart and shit. That's how I would do it. Not this dumb piece of junk we're stuck with."

Simmons. That was his name. He was the one constantly poking her and humiliating her. She wanted to jump up and yell at him that there was someone under the armor. She wanted to use her brute strength to put her fist through his chest, she wanted to rip his throat—no, that wasn't right. Not the kind of mindset she needed to be in. She needed to calm her mind. Besides, she had been told she was to have as little interaction with these marines as possible. They didn't know how long this testing warframe would actually last.

Stock was cleaning his rifle. All that built up grime could cause it to malfunction. Two other marines were poking the tenno and arguing as to whether it was a robot or not. The leading opinion was that it was indeed a robot. Something new to help them. But why make it humanoid? He remembered hearing about studies suggesting people would be more relaxed around humanoid inanimate objects rather than ridiculous eight legged monstrosities like Simmons had suggested they build. Hell, if anything a contraption like that sounded terrifying, no moving thing, robot or otherwise, should ever have that many legs.

Although, Simmons was a bit of an idiot, there was no doubt about that. He was "That Guy." That one guy who every division has, that one guy who manages to ruin it for everyone else. Stock was sure he'd probably figure out a way to break the tenno too if he was allowed to continue.

Finally Stock spoke up, "I'm pretty sure it's not a robot. It's humanoid, and it thinks. Hell, I'm pretty sure it even has emotions. And essentially you two are antagonizing it. You might remember that it brought down a whole building full of insurgents yesterday. Do you two think that's a smart thing you are doing?"

"Awe, come on man, it's just in good fun. You're too smart to be a marine, you over analyze everything. Why did you join the marines anyway?"

Stock didn't answer and eventually Simmons and the other marine just laughed and walked off. Finally, peace and quiet. Stock didn't really mind any of the guys he served with, hell, he thought of them as brothers, but they were always so loud, like, all the time. And they could be a big pain in the ass.

Stock was in the process of fitting a small spring back into the assembly of his rifle, when it popped and escaped, flying in the tenno's direction. A series of events flashed through his mind, the spring hitting the tenno, the tenno getting enraged at the last straw, the tenno blowing up the whole planet.

Instead, the tenno just reached up and caught the spring before it hit. Then it held out its hand. Palm up, the spring inside, undamaged.

"Uh… thank… you? I think," he wasn't sure what else to say. He plucked the spring from the tenno's palm and went back to reassembling the rifle.

"So why did you join if you are too smart?"

He jumped at the voice. It was so soft and quiet he almost didn't hear it. He looked around, half expecting to see another marine, but there was nobody else in the room. He looked at the tenno and asked, "Was that you?"

The tenno nodded.

"Oh, huh… I guess I didn't have much of a choice," he told her, "It was either work in the factories or fight in the marines. Figured I'd see the universe before I died. Never really considered going into the other branches. But looking back I think should have."

There was silence for a few minutes. Then the tenno spoke again. "I'm Anya," she said quietly.

He looked up at her and smiled as he said, "Call me Stock."

"Stock… Odd name," she commented after testing it.

"Eh, well, you know, Woodstock is a bit awkward to say over and over," he shrugged.

"I'm amazed none of them have cracked a joke about… that… yet," she said, and Stock suspected she was making a face behind her helm.

"They already have, you just missed them all," he chuckled, "They're not so bad. Just a bit rough around the edges. They'll get used to you."

"Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked softly.

"Shouldn't I be?" he asked, "I don't see a reason not to, you're human under there. You're just like me. So you have a few extra bits and pieces, I won't hold that against you."

"You're the only person to say something like that to me since they took us off the Zariman," she said, bowing her head.

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 **I'm wondering if this needs more, like a finishing touch or something. It feels like we just left it hanging, but I would love to know what you all think. If you think it's fine I'll leave it be, if you'd like more of a finish I'll see what I can do. Thanks everyone!**


	4. Inner Demons

**Finally a new chapter. This one was written by me, and the next two or three will probably be written by me as well, although I'm not sure. We'll see what happens. Enjoy!**

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Anya winced inside her armor as she felt yet another bolt twisted tight enough to grind her bodysuit into her flesh. This had been going on for a long time now, after every battle for the past couple of months in fact she'd had to have her warframe adjusted just to keep it from falling apart. It was no longer a question of if the prototype armor would fail, but of when.

The past couple of months had been hard on Stock too. Anya would often catch him staring at her when he thought she wasn't paying attention and she could tell that it was getting harder and harder for him to hide his worry. She couldn't say anything yet though, not until after they'd finished with their current assignment anyway.

She just hoped the frame would hold up for that long. If it failed in the middle of a battle she didn't know what would happen, and she was more worried about the marine than she was ready to admit. He'd been the first and so far the only one to stop being afraid of her, and he always made a point of keeping her company when he could. Stock was the only friend she had now, and she didn't want to lose him.

It took a long time, but eventually the techs were finished with her frame and she was free for a while. She immediately began looking for Stock and ended up wandering around aimlessly for quite a while. No one was going to stop to give a tenno directions, and in fact they all turned and went the other way when they saw her coming. She had to find Stock on her own, then after wandering around for about an hour she checked the training field and found the entire squad there, along with Sergeant Booth.

Booth was a rather angry sort and Anya didn't like him much. What she liked even less was the way he would often single Stock out, for everything from a speck of dust on his boot to just having the wrong expression on his face at a particular time. It looked like this evening wasn't going to be much different either, Stock was down doing pushups while the rest of the unit was standing around looking awkward and more than a little embarrassed as Booth yelled at their fellow marine.

What happened next though came as a bit of a surprise. One of the others, Lance Corporal Havoc she thought, dropped to the ground beside Stock and began keeping pace with him, and before long the whole squad had followed suit. Booth was completely blindsided by this, and after sputtering a command for them to all stand at attention he stormed off the field.

The marines stood there at attention for about thirty seconds more, and then someone snorted with the effort of holding back his laughter. Soon all of them were doubled over or rolling on the ground laughing while at the same time desperately trying not to make too much noise, and Anya couldn't help a silent chuckle of her own. These guys might not like her, but she was starting to truly like them and enjoy being around to watch them. Rather than spoil the moment she turned without a sound and walked away, chose a spot out of the way to sit down, and began polishing her weapons.

All her sword needed was a touch up polish as she almost never ended up in a situation where she had to use it. She finished with it in just a few minutes, then moved on to her side arm. She eventually had to give up about halfway through cleaning it after realizing she'd spent twenty minutes on the same part. She sighed, put it back together, then shifted her position and began her breathing exercises, eventually drifting into her trance.

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She wandered through a wasteland, a long silent battlefield where, even after eons of time, nothing had changed and nothing had grown. Every soldier who had fought and died on that battlefield had remained, preserved for eternity the way they had fallen, the dead wearing uniforms from the most humble beginnings of the empire on until the present day. The entire history of the Orokin lay bare for all to see written in their battlefields spanning centuries of war and destruction.

Anya wandered on, coming at last to the very place where she herself sat in the waking world, only now it was different. The camp was gone, moved or something, the battle seemed to have been fought on that very spot. There wasn't a single living thing left, no Orokin officers, no enlisted marines, no rebels… not even a single blade of grass. Over everything there lay a wispy, faintly glowing pink mist that billowed and swirled with the slightest movement, lighting up the faces of those who lay dead or casting them into shadow as it scattered in puffs of air. There lay Sergeant Booth, a massive hole ripped through his chest. Other marines followed, Simmons, possibly the biggest pain in the ass she'd ever met and yet somehow an entertaining one despite it all. Lance Corporal Havoc, who she didn't really know very well but who seemed to care about the others a great deal even if he didn't care about her.

On and on she walked, until she'd seen every member of her own unit except for Private Woodstock. She wandered toward the center of the field, continually turning as she did so, feeling more and more alone the farther she went. She looked ahead and saw someone standing with his back to her, but as she approached the man collapsed in on himself into a mound of dust, a set of dog tags landing on top and kicking up a puff of dust and glowing pink vapor. She picked them up and her breath caught.

"Impressive, isn't it?"

Anya clutched the tags protectively to her chest as she turned to face the speaker, then took a step back. The woman seemed to be a twisted version of herself, wreathed in a dark aura and holding a strange gleam in her eye. "'Impressive' is not the word I would choose," Anya said.

"Why not? Why hold to their values, their morals, their way of thinking?" the woman questioned, "You only hold yourself back."

"I was tasked with protecting them," Anya said as she looked around, "This… This is not what I had in mind."

"Why? You're stronger, faster, smarter," the other woman said, "You are better than them in every way, meant to be their weapon but in the end you could be their replacement."

"No," Anya shook her head, "Not like this."

"Is that your personal opinion? Or is that just what they've taught you to think?" the woman asked, a smirk on her face.

"I don't want to kill them!" Anya protested.

"Don't you?" the woman demanded. The battlefield disappeared and they were surrounded by blackness, standing on nothing. "You do want to kill them. You want them to pay for what they've done to you, what they've done to us. You want to make them suffer, as we have suffered," she continued, "They are the embodiment of everything we've suffered."

"Not all of them," Anya whispered.

"All of them!" the woman declared, "They embody our doubts." She raised a hand and suddenly Simmons was standing there beside her, still very much dead but also looking straight at Anya.

"I knew you would fail," he said simply.

"They embody our fears," the woman continued. The next man to appear was Anya's own handler, the only person she'd ever been truly terrified of.

"It is a weapon's purpose to be used; not to think," he spoke the words she remembered so vividly from the one and only time she had ever questioned him.

"They embody our hatred," the woman hissed. The scientist who had done all of the work, both on her warframe and on Anya herself appeared.

"You will be the greatest scientific achievement this glorious empire has ever known!" he proclaimed.

"They embody our guilt," the woman said. Stock was suddenly standing there with the others, scarred and horribly mangled.

"Where were you, Anya? Why didn't you help us?" he asked, his voice filled with pain and betrayal.

Anya just shook her head and took a step back, her hands still held to her chest.

"They are your weakness," the woman concluded, "But you need not be held back. We need not be held back. Cast them away, realize they don't matter. We are superior in every way and one day we will replace them. All you need to do is claim that right." The woman made a sweeping gesture with her hand and the specters of Anya's feelings were scattered to nothingness like dust in the wind.

"This is not how it's supposed to be!" Anya cried.

"Isn't it?" the woman retorted, "You're so indoctrinated that you don't even know who we are! We are their replacement, when a hundred years have passed and they've all turned to dust we will still remain, we will live until long after the empire has crumbled to its very foundations!"

"If 'claiming my right' means betraying my only friend then forget it," Anya spat, "Stock is all I have, I will not abandon him!"

"It is the only way, and the sooner you accept that the easier it will be for you," the woman said with finality, "But only you can make the decision to claim our destiny. I will be waiting." She faded away and Anya was left standing in the middle of a silent and empty void.

* * *

Anya jolted out of her trance and took a frantic look around just to be sure her camp hadn't become a dead battlefield. She had never encountered that part of herself before, and the fact that this other woman who was her but not her had been allowed to be born frightened and worried her. She didn't know what to make of her, or what she should do. One thing was brutally clear though, Anya knew that she couldn't allow that side of herself to win. If she did then everything she'd been through, everything she had done, her entire life after the Zariman would be pointless.

She resisted the urge to go looking for Stock, if he wanted to see her tonight he would, but their friendship was forbidden and she couldn't always run to him every time something upset her. Besides, even though she technically knew he would never blame her for his suffering, part of her was still beginning to doubt. Clearly he meant more to her than the others, and the other side of her had picked up on that, and used him as a way to drive home her guilt. Well, it had worked, although maybe not in the way it had been intended. Anya could never live with herself if she let anything happen to him. She decided that if it came to it she would sacrifice herself rather than let him die, and she was still thinking about this when she finally dropped off to sleep.


	5. Overload

**Here, at long last, is chapter five. Enjoy everyone.**

* * *

"Sergeant Booth! Do you copy?" Havoc had no idea how long the commander had been trying to raise them on the comm. link, but he sounded like he was getting very fed up with the lack of response. He grabbed the receiver and placed a hand over the other ear so he could hear what the commander was saying and responded. "Status report, sergeant!" the commander shouted.

"Lance Corporal Havoc here, sir, Sergeant Booth is down and we're taking heavy casualties!" Corporal Havoc shouted back, "I don't know how much longer we can hold out sir, we're being overrun!"

"Hold your position," the commander ordered, "Wait for further instructions."

"What about the tenno?" Havoc questioned.

"Order the tenno to retreat," the commander said.

"But sir—!"

"You have your orders, marine!" the commander snarled. The comm. went dead and Havoc threw the receiver with a shout of frustration.

"Havoc?" Simmons asked nervously, having just finished helping Stock fill yet another glowing bomb with rifle fire.

"Are we getting reinforcements?" Stock asked, dropping down behind the barricade beside them.

"No," Havoc replied.

"What?!" Anya demanded.

"No reinforcements, tenno!" Havoc spat, "Your orders specifically are to retreat back to the command center. Just do your fucking job!"

"Yeah, I'll do my fucking job alright," Anya growled, then she vaulted the barrier and took off running as she ordered, "Cover me!"

"Anya, wait!" Stock hollered.

"Just do what I told you!" she shouted back, "Cover me and don't get shot!"

"Where do you think you're going?!" Havoc roared, "Get back to command!"

"Too late, man, she's gone," Simmons observed.

"Thanks, genius, I couldn't see that for myself!" snapped Havoc, "I sure hope she knows what she's fucking doing… Marines! Cover the tenno, do not, I repeat, do not let anything happen to her! She might be the only way we'll get out of this!"

"Instructions unclear, man, shot the tenno in the back," Simmons couldn't help himself, then at Havoc's furious glare he burst into laughter.

"Not funny, Simmons," Stock growled and punched his giggling friend hard in the shoulder, then he looked at Havoc. "We'll protect her or die trying," he said.

"Good, go," Havoc ordered.

Anya headed straight for the rebel lines, easy enough to find because they were practically surrounding the marines. She didn't know what she was planning to do, the only thought in her head at the moment was that the regiment had been denied reinforcements and that pretty much meant a death sentence for all of them. She didn't feel as if her life was worth all of theirs.

There were so many rebels and they had so many heavy weapons that the only thing she could do was also the most dangerous thing she could do. She was committed now though, it was the only way out for either herself or her unit and she slid to a stop just short of the rebel lines. There was a split second of indecision on the rebels' side which Anya used to clear her mind and focus completely on what she wanted, then as they resumed firing she sprang into motion.

With her mind wholly focused on keeping the marines and Stock in particular alive, she expelled a surge of energy into her left hand, made a fist, then threw a punch toward the ground, opening her hand at the last instant and letting the energy detonate. A wave of supercharged energy erupted from under her hand and radiated outward, rolling in all directions and charging every organic thing in range with antimatter.

There was a loud pop, and she felt the circuits in her frame begin to overload, the joints in the armor fusing and making movement impossible as the electronics fried. When it was over she could barely hear anything outside her helm, but she was able to tell that the fire from the rebel side of the field had been significantly slowed while the marines seemed to be just fine. She finally allowed herself to breathe, then gasped as she suddenly realized just how much she hurt.

The bolts digging into her were hot and they burned, the joints had frozen into an awkward position which was making her muscles cramp, and the circuits in the arms of her warframe had burned clear through the sleeves of her body suit to her skin. The worst part was that she could barely feel anything below her lower back and she knew that she probably wouldn't walk out of here, assuming she could even get out of the warframe. She really hoped someone would come and help her out of the thing soon…

Stock motioned for Simmons to follow him, then he and the other marine moved to a better position and began firing on the rebels. He had no idea what Anya had planned, or even if there was a plan, but he did know that he and the rest of the marines needed to keep her alive. If she died then their squad, and likely the whole unit, would be sent to the firing squad. Despite how most of the marines treated her, Stock knew she wouldn't want that for any of them.

The two of them continued to lay down suppressing fire as Anya made it to the rebel lines and then stopped. The next thing they knew she seemed to explode in a cloud of vibrant pink energy and Simmons grabbed onto Stock before he could go after her and dragged both of them to the ground as the shockwave hit their position.

"Get off me," Stock ordered as he scrambled back to his feet.

"Hey, it was all I had time for!" Simmons retorted.

"You're right," Stock forced himself to give in, "Wait a minute, does that sound… off, to you?"

"The rebels aren't firing as much," Simmons agreed, "Come on, let's check it out!"

"Wait, damn it!" Stock shouted, but Simmons had already jumped over the barricade and headed toward where they had last seen Anya.

"Hey, Stock, whatever she did slowed them way down, they can't hit shit!" Simmons turned around to shout at him, "Come take a look!"

Stock didn't even get the chance to respond, apparently all the rebels had needed was for the marine to stand still. A single gunshot rang out and Simmons dropped like a marionette with its strings cut. Stock immediately returned fire, along with every other marine who was able, and the battlefield lit up once again in a blaze of pink light. When the glow died down for the second time Stock vaulted the barricade and first checked his fellow marine.

"Aw, Simmons, what the fuck were you thinking?" Stock sighed as he inspected the wound.

"Don't know," Simmons choked, "Don't waste time on me, go rescue your tenno… I'm not going to make it, but you… you still have a chance. You make it through this fucking war, and you change this fucked up world!"

"Shut up," Stock ordered, "You're going home with honors."

"Ha! Guys like me don't get honors," Simmons managed a harsh laugh, "Just save the tenno, you bastard."

"You're an ass, Simmons," Stock whispered.

"Yeah, fuck you too," Simmons coughed.

"I'll be back," Stock promised him.

"Sure," Simmons chuckled.

Stock gripped his friend's hand, then stood and ran to where the warframe had been ever since the bizarre explosion. It was split open all the way up the back, but not enough for Anya to fit through apparently. Even if the split had been wide enough, a closer inspection revealed that she wouldn't have been able to get through it without help anyway. The joints had all melted to slag and fused into place as they were and there was a smell of burnt electronics, plastics, and flesh.

"Anya?" he asked, circling the frame.

"Stock? Is… Is that you?" she panted, her voice muffled.

"Yeah, it's me," he assured her, "What happened? Are you alright?"

"I… I think so, for now. I feel a little lightheaded and I can't see," she replied breathlessly, "I don't think this frame was meant for what I did…"

"Alright, hang on, I'm going to get you out of there," he replied, "Is there a bolt or something, a lever I can't see?"

"If there was it's probably melted," she told him, "Just break it."

"Not yet," Havoc interrupted as he came to where they were and offered Stock a radio receiver and a toolbox, "The guy who built the thing is on the line, he asked us not to destroy it if we could help it."

"I think it's already pretty much destroyed," Stock informed him, "I can barely hear her and I think she's having trouble breathing."

"Well, he didn't want it ripped apart. He does have instructions for getting it open though," Havoc said, "Congrats, looks like you'll be the first to see her face in close to a year."

"Five!" Anya spat, "Get me out of this fucking thing!"

"Maybe we should wait for her to pass out," Havoc said cautiously. There was a sound of metal twisting and a plate fell off one arm to land smoldering on the ground.

"Yeah, I think that's a no," Stock said, accepting the receiver and toolbox as he said, "Private Woodstock, Third Marine infantry regiment, Third Squad, you asked for me, sir?"

"Yes," a wheezing, elderly sounding voice responded, "I understand you're the only one who's willing to go near my tenno."

"I wouldn't know, sir, I only do what I'm told," Stock said carefully.

"Yes, yes, you and every other ham-handed, thick-witted marine out there," the man grumbled, "Wouldn't know a work of art if it was painted on your face."

"I apologize, sir," Stock said, not sure what else he could say.

"Alright, just shut up and pay attention," the scientist snapped, suddenly all business, "You said you think she's having trouble breathing?"

"Yes, sir," Stock confirmed, "And her voice is muffled, almost can't hear her."

"Alright, what you want to do first is take the helmet off," the scientist instructed, "Gently, you hear? That frame wasn't cheap and we need enough of it left intact to study so we can figure out why it blew up."

"Got it, sir," Stock said.

"Good," the man said, "Now, look it over, there should be two bolts, one on each side, plus two latches on the back and on the front. Remove the bolts, then flip the latches open."

"The bolts are fused, sir, I can't budge them," Stock told him, "The latches are completely gone, melted off I guess."

"What have you marines been doing to my tenno?!" the scientist demanded.

"Nothing, sir," Stock replied, "Is there another way to get this off?"

"No, that was how the helmet worked," the scientist told him, "It's really too bad, she was good, really good. Still, she isn't the only tenno of her type that we have. If you can't get the helm off it's no giant catastrophe. We'll just lose one tenno and have to start over again."

"Sir, you can't expect me to just—"

"Leave it," the scientist ordered, "We'll pick it up when we have the chance." The line went dead and Stock stood there thinking for several seconds.

"Stock…" Anya didn't sound like she was doing very well at all.

"It's alright, Anya, I'm going to get you out of there," he soothed, "Stay with me, alright? You've got this." He handed the receiver back to Havoc and went to trying to pry the helm apart.

"You heard what he said," Havoc protested.

"Yeah, he expects me to let her suffocate," Stock said, "I'm not going to let her die like this."

"Alright, but it's your ass in the sling if this goes to hell," Havoc growled.

"I can't just walk away, Havoc, you know that," Stock told him.

"Yeah, I do," Havoc said, "Get her out if you can. Maybe she's not out of miracles for you today." Havoc walked away and Stock pulled a crowbar out of the tool box.

"Ok, this might be a little loud," he warned her. He wedged the crowbar under the lip where the rim of the helm met the neck of the armor and started to pull. The metal groaned and squeaked, but at first it wouldn't budge. He tried applying more pressure and at first it seemed to work, but then it gave and Anya let out a yelp, causing him to drop the crowbar. "What happened?" he asked.

"It's bending," she whimpered, "Stock, it hurts…"

"Ok, I won't do that again, calm down," he said softly, "Try not to panic, you'll only run out of air faster."

"I'm scared," she panted.

"I know, just try to relax," he soothed, "I know that isn't easy, I'm scared too. Just hold on, alright?"

"Please don't leave me," she begged.

"I promise I won't leave you," he assured her.

He inspected the dent he'd made in the neck of the armor and discovered that he might be able to fit a pair of bolt cutters into the space, and if he could just get it started it wouldn't take more than a few seconds to get the helm off. He started digging through the tool box looking for bolt cutters, but found a plasma cutter instead. Well he could work with that, but he would have to be extremely careful so as to avoid hitting Anya with the beam. He dialed it down to the lowest effective setting then placed a hand on the helm.

"Ok, I think I have a plan," he told her, "I need you to tell me immediately if you feel uncomfortable, got it?"

"O…o…ok," she sounded like she was barely conscious at this point.

He started up the plasma cutter and ran the beam around the edge of the helm two or three times, finally managing to get through the metal on the fourth time around. He took his time, making sure not to hit Anya with the beam from the plasma cutter, and finally the helm popped off. She gasped, then sat there panting for several minutes before she finally managed to get her breathing under control.

"You're alright now, Anya, just breathe," he said softly, "Just breathe."

"I… I… I can… Oh, Stock…" she whimpered, "It hurts, please get it off…"

"I know, Anya, I'm sorry, just try to hang on for a little bit longer," he said, "Hang on, I'm getting it off."

He gently ran a hand over her cheek then applied the plasma cutter to the collar of the frame and finally cut it off. He then brushed her hair out of the way so he could see her neck. The bent collar had given her a pretty bad bruise, he just hoped that it wouldn't do any permanent harm to her. She seemed to be breathing easier at any rate, and as he began cutting away the back plates of the warframe she visibly relaxed, although he did notice that her muscles were still trembling slightly.

Once he had a wide enough opening for her body to fit through he began working out how to get the rest of the armor opened up so he could free her limbs without injuring her. He decided to get her right arm free first, since it was the one currently most likely to be causing her discomfort. It had frozen right in the middle of her motion to detonate the explosion that had won them the battle. Her hand was fused around her rifle and her whole arm was twisted up behind her at an awkward angle. The individual parts of the rifle had all melted together so he was forced to cut it apart.

It wasn't until he pried the metal glove away from her hand that he discovered the reason for the smell of burnt skin. He tried to be as gentle as possible but she was still sobbing by the time he'd finished pealing the plates away from her. Her right arm was badly burned all the way up past her elbow and when he started on her left he found it was equally badly injured. The end of the process proved to be the most tricky, he ended up having her lean against him while he pried the legs of the frame open and then carefully extricated her own legs from it. Her feet and calves were burned almost as badly as her hands and arms, but she didn't react at all when he finally pulled her completely free of the wrecked warframe.

"Anya, I need you to tell me something," he said.

"W-what?" she asked.

"Can you feel this? What I'm doing right now?" he asked, carefully placing a hand on one of her feet.

"Only that you're touching me," she said, her voice trembling, "What I can feel just hurts…"

"Alright, Anya, I'm going to pick you up and carry you back," he told her, wrapping an arm around her and holding her to support her weight, "Now, are you ready?"

She nodded then rested her head against his shoulder. He picked her up bridal style, gently cradling her against him as he carefully began picking his way across the bomb-cratered battlefield, and now he finally had the time to properly look at her.

"You glow," he voiced the surprise he'd been holding in since finally getting her helmet off, then he mentally kicked himself. Maybe she didn't want to be told that.

"Y-yeah," she replied, "It's because…because I'm a tenno…"

"You're…" he stopped. He had been going to tell her she was beautiful, and to him right now she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, but she was already upset and he didn't want to make her feel worse.

"I'm what..?" she prodded, then her voice went almost silent as she suggested, "A monster..?"

"No! Never that," he shook his head and he couldn't help tightening his grip slightly, "You are not a monster, Anya. Never think that…"

"Then…what?" she finally ventured. She was slightly taken aback by his emphatic denial that she was a monster. She had expected him to just shrug and say nothing.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," he told her after a fairly long silence.

"I can't get more uncomfortable than I already am," she mumbled, "Everything hurts and I can't even walk…"

"I'm sorry," he said as he slightly averted his eyes. _Smooth, Woodstock_ , he thought to himself, _She's already feeling miserable, and here you are, not helping._ He took a deep breath then hesitantly began, "I just meant… Anya, you're my friend. I don't want anything to ruin that."

Anya was silent for a long moment while she thought that over. She decided that, if he was that concerned, then she didn't need to know what he was about to say. She was just glad that he'd cared enough to rescue her.

"Thank you," she said, her voice still quiet.

"You're welcome," he told her, and she caught the barest hint of a smile before he turned his attention to where he was putting his feet.

He was so absorbed with the effort to avoid hurting her more that it took him nearly thirty minutes to get her back to the base. The entire regiment had made it back before him, and when he finally came onto the parade ground carrying Anya he found himself facing not just the unit commander but Anya's handler and a man who could only be the scientist he'd spoken with over the comm. link. Well this didn't look good.

"What is this?!" the commander demanded, "Why have you disobeyed your orders, marine?!"

"I had to, sir," Stock said, desperately trying to hide his nervousness.

"What have you done with my warframe?" snapped the scientist.

"Still on the field, sir," Stock answered.

"Commander, I protest this gross dereliction of duty!" the scientist yelled, "This man should be punished to the full extent of the law, made to work off the cost of equipment destroyed, tarred and feathered!"

"The standard penalty for disobeying a direct order is death by firing squad," the commander growled, "Officer, take this man and Corporal Havoc away, then round up the rest of the squad. I'm disappointed in you, private."

"Wait, sir, you can't just kill them!" Anya protested, and her hold on Stock tightened that much more.

"That's the law, tenno," the commander replied testily.

"But I would be dead without them," Anya told him.

"You wouldn't have been in any danger at all if orders had been delivered properly!" the commander turned to glare at Havoc as he said this.

"But he gave me the orders!" Anya finally raised her voice above a whisper, "I just ignored them! It's not his fault, please don't punish the marines for what I did…"

"Is this true, corporal?" the commander snapped, rounding on Havoc.

"Y-yes, sir," Corporal Havoc stammered, quite frankly surprised the commander had addressed him at all.

"Commander…" Anya's voice had dropped again to a labored whisper, but he still heard her. When the commander turned back to face her she begged, "Please don't punish them…"

The commander was about to respond angrily, and Anya's handler was looking mildly annoyed himself, but finally the scientist spoke up.

"This young man did manage to rescue my tenno, and therefore I won't be forced to start completely over, despite the fact that my warframe is now lying in bits on a torn up battlefield," he said thoughtfully as he circled the two of them and came to stand directly in front of Stock, "Are you worth her faith in you marine?"

"I hope so, sir," Stock replied.

"Well then, I suppose that is all I can really ask for," he said dismissively, gesturing for his aides to bring a bio-bed to where Stock stood holding Anya. Stock started to set her down, but she refused to let go of him.

"Promise me nothing will happen to them," she insisted, staring around at the commanders and others who were standing there, "I want you to log it into the records that you won't punish them!"

"It is a simple request, commander, is it not? You can manage that, yes?" the scientist questioned, looking the regiment commander straight in the eye.

"Of course," he said grudgingly. He took a data pad from one of his own aides, made a note on it, then handed it back to the man after copying it to a blank holo-disk and handing the disk to the scientist as he said, "For the record, Dr. Slater, this is highly irregular. I cannot guarantee this sort of special treatment for every offense."

"It is not necessary for every offense," Dr. Slater huffed dismissively, "Only for this one. Now, marine, if you would?"

He motioned for Stock to set Anya down again, and this time she didn't resist. She simply didn't have the energy any longer. She somehow managed to get across to him that she intended to see him again, but he felt it was safer to not hope, only to wait and see what would happen. He would have been lying though if he had said he wasn't hoping that somehow she would come back to their unit.


	6. Skin Deep

**Hello, my lovelies, at long last I have another chapter for you all. I do apologize for being so tardy with these, but school work has been getting in the way. Regardless, here it is, another installment. Enjoy.**

* * *

"Alright, go ahead and try that again," Dr. Slater instructed.

Anya gritted her teeth in frustration but complied, even if she would much rather have just not moved for the next week she knew that the war, and by extension the military, wouldn't wait for her to feel like doing things. She wanted her place back, she might not know half of the marines who would be in her unit by the time she got there but she was hoping that Stock at least would still be there.

Her knees buckled and she fell, landing on them hard. She was disappointed for what seemed like the hundredth time when she didn't feel anything more than a jolt and a tiny pinprick of pain that barely registered. She growled and forced her legs to respond, finally managing to get to a standing position again with a massive effort. She looked at the scientist and noted that he looked incredibly frustrated himself. It was clear that he was as much at a loss for what was wrong with her as she was, and Anya felt a thrill of panic. If he couldn't figure out what was going on and she remained mostly crippled, she would never leave the lab again. She would lose her place and she would lose her friend.

"That's enough for today," Dr. Slater said finally, "We'll run some tests and resume therapy tomorrow."

"But we can't give up now," she protested, "I felt it that time, just a little bit but I felt it…"

"You're exhausted," he countered, and she thought his expression softened somewhat, "We'll try again tomorrow, I have a few more ideas."

Ok, so maybe he wasn't a completely horrible person. Then again, that could have just been her own wishful thinking. In her memory she couldn't recall a single time when he had actually given her a reason to think he cared about anything other than her ability to perform for him. She sighed and allowed the lab technicians to help her to her to her feet and support her as she made her way back to the room she had been put in.

The conditions had somewhat improved since she was last here, at least she was no longer forced to live in a containment cell. She supposed that was because she hadn't accidentally blown anything up in a very long time, since she passed the containment cells on her way to her room and three of the cells contained lonely, scared looking little girls. Anya imagined that she herself had looked something like that when they'd first brought her out of cryosleep and put her in one of these. They had needed to put her into one though, during the first couple of hours out of cryo she'd managed to destabilize an entire section of the lab. It had been pure luck that it hadn't crumbled to radioactive dust and disintegrated on them.

The lab technicians finally got her to her room and left her, and Anya finally relaxed a little. She was still worried, and still nervous, the thoughts of what could happen if she didn't regain full control of her limbs chasing each other around in her mind. First and foremost among those thoughts were her marines, she couldn't stop thinking about them and what might happen if she wasn't able to return to their unit.

Stock was the first person in over ten years to treat her like person, and she didn't know if she would be able to control herself if she lost him. He grounded her, gave her a reason to be better, and she worried that she would lose more than just her friend if anything happened to him even if the worry was a little bit irrational. She reflected that she probably shouldn't have let him become that important to her in so short a length of time but she couldn't help it, and her thoughts were rarely off him by now. She missed talking with him, she wasn't sure why but no matter what was going on he always seemed to be able to calm her down and even if he didn't have anything to say he was still willing to sit with her. She knew she wouldn't see him again unless they sent her back to the unit, and eventually the stress of the last few days caught up with her and she dropped off into a fitful sleep.

When Anya awoke the next day Dr. Slater personally came to get her from her room, and after helping her to the lab he had her lay face down on an operating table. She then felt a needle inserted into her upper arm, then what seemed like only a few seconds later he told her to sit up. She moved, testing her limbs, then on looking at the clock she found that more than an hour had passed. Well, hopefully it was worth it.

She struggled to a sitting position, but somehow her legs didn't feel any different, and neither did her back. Anya chose not to inform Dr. Slater of this fact, instead she sat on the operating table for a few moments, then at his instruction, she carefully worked herself down to place her feet on the floor. She took a step, then two, then a few more, and had almost made it across the room before her knees gave out again and she collapsed to the floor.

"Well, that is progress over yesterday," he mused, then he grumbled, "I don't understand this, if you had been human all of the tests I ran and operations I performed would have had you perfectly capable of movement or even fighting a minor skirmish. What could I possibly have done wrong?!" Anya didn't have an answer for him, so she just stayed silent, afraid that if she did speak she would make a mistake and say too much. "I accounted for everything, every biological peculiarity, every physical difference, every chemical anomaly, the operations should have worked," he continued, throwing his hands on the air. Anya still said nothing and he continued to pace. "Unless it was the operations themselves," he said suddenly as he stood still to stare at her, "Yes... That is possible. I must perform a final test. Please return to the operating table." She did as he instructed and minutes later she heard him speaking to someone about the test results, apparently this had been a very simple one to perform. After that he left for a long time, and then just as Anya was ready to panic he returned leading a nervous looking young woman.

She had light blonde hair and blue irises ringed with gold, while her skin seemed to glow with a soothing blue and golden light. It made Anya think of a stream glowing over gold colored stones. Anya found herself thinking something she almost never thought about women: this girl was beautiful. She didn't have time to ponder that thought farther though because Dr. Slater was all business, and the short spell was broken as he began to speak to the new tenno, telling her everything he knew of what had happened to Anya and finishing by saying, "Human medical treatments do not seem to work. Luckily, you are tenno, my hope is that you can reverse the damage. I don't need to remind you of what will happen if this fails."

The young tenno rolled her eyes and said, "Really, Doctor, have you ever seen me fail at what I was meant to do?"

"Sarcasm does not become you, my dear," Dr. Slater growled, "Get this one walking again or I will make you her replacement."

"That's hardly motivational," the girl snorted, "It would get me out of this damn lab. The only problem I can see is that I'd have to waste my talents on a bunch of human marines rather than spend my time on other tenno."

"Here's another down side," the doctor snapped, "There would still be tenno here in need of your efforts. I suspect that leaving them would upset you far more than you will admit." With that Dr. Slater turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.

"Well, beautiful, let's see if we can repair the damage, although Void knows I'll probably be seeing you again if unruly marines are anything to go by," the other tenno said.

"They didn't do it you know," Anya forced her voice to remain calm. That was difficult to do, since the thought sitting foremost in her mind at the moment was that if this girl were to take her place then she really would lose Stock. That thought made her feel upset, and more than a little bit angry, this girl did not have the right to judge him.

"Of course," the tenno replied softly, "Just do me a favor and watch yourself, yes? You don't belong here."

"I'm not alone there," Anya said simply. She didn't know what this girl thought had happened, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"You're sweet," the girl murmured as Anya felt a soft warmth spreading through her body, starting at the point of injury and spreading outward, "I almost wish you didn't have to go back. I usually see those like you come back to me in body bags."

"It's a war," Anya shrugged. She was still somewhat annoyed with this girl, but no longer wholly angry. She wouldn't have liked getting other tenno back in body bags herself. "If I came back in a body bag though there would be more than one body," Anya said, and as she said it she was suddenly certain that if she died she wouldn't be the only one to do so.

"Don't say that," the girl whispered, "It's bad enough when I get one at a time, two would kill me."

"He isn't a tenno," Anya said, "Just my friend."

"I don't know if I hope you're right or I want you to be wrong," the girl chuckled softly, "Still, for what it's worth, I don't really hate the marines. I just want to keep as many tenno alive as I can."

"Well, I don't think you have much to worry about with me," Anya smiled, "This nonsense was mostly because I pushed my warframe beyond what it was capable of and it kind of blew up. Apparently the main control module was sitting on top of my ass."

"A prototype nova then," the girl said, "I will have to make note of this and inform the doctor that this could become a recurring problem. I hear a lot about what goes on here, and it seems Dr. Slater has built about fifty or so replacement frames, although I've only seen one so far. It was beautiful, it almost made me wish I was like you."

"I don't know how you'd like that, all I can do is make things explode," Anya teased, "I can't put people back together again like you can."

"Thank you," the tenno said, and Anya heard the smile in her voice as she continued, "Alright, try getting up, I think you should be safe to move around now." Anya rolled to her side and accepted the girl's assistance in pulling herself upright, then after a few moment of sitting there the girl helped Anya to stand and they made a trip around the room. After that she instructed Anya to try on her own, and once she was completely satisfied that Anya was fine the nova said, "Thank you. Can I ask your name?"

"No names, not unless we somehow by some miracle and up being free of the empire. Until that happens, I'm just trinity, and you are nova," the girl said.

"I understand," Anya replied, "Still, Thank you, for everything."

"You are welcome," this time the trinity gave a full smile and her blue and golden glow shown just a little bit brighter. Then she turned away and called Dr. Slater. The scientist looked oddly pleased to see Anya sitting there on the operating table, legs swinging, and after congratulating the trinity on her skill he motioned for Anya to follow him out of the room.

At first they walked through areas that Anya had been through at least once before, but soon after that he led her through a section that she was sure was new. He led her down so many hallways that she eventually lost track of how many turns had been made and how many doors had been passed, until they finally came to a set of wide double doors leading into a very spacious room.

There, open and ready on a stand, hung a warframe. The body was a sleek sheath of pearlescent slate colored metal which Anya couldn't identify, while the legs and arms were matte finished and began the same color as the body but faded to a soft blue at the hands and feet. The helm was the same dark slate and the faceplate was mirrored in the slate and soft blue of the rest of the frame. The whole thing was held together by hundreds of golden filaments that gleamed and sparkled as the light hit them. "Wow..." Anya breathed. The trinity hadn't been lying, the frame seemed more like a work of art to Anya than a weapon.

"It is calibrated specifically to your measurements and molecular structure," Dr. Slater said proudly, "We just finished the process this morning. Go ahead and climb in, tell me how it feels. Also, I figured you would like to have a piece of the work just for yourself." He handed her a golden pendant that reminded her of a flower. It was made up of one larger circle with six smaller ones attached on filaments radiating out from it.

Anya smiled as she hung the pendant around her neck and nodded her thanks although she didn't say anything. She climbed the staircase to a small platform, then sat down and carefully slid into the frame. It felt like a second skin on top of the bodysuit she wore, and as she put on the helm, the interface locked into place and the sensory circuits kicked in. Anya found that every sense she had was heightened, and when she brushed her fingers against her hip she felt the sensation in both her hip and the tips of her fingers, as if she were wearing nothing at all. She looked toward Dr. Slater and nodded once, and he seemed satisfied.

In another two days she was cleared to resume active duty and they sent her back out, and as her ship hovered in over the military camp they had chosen for her she had to blink several time to hold back the tears. The banners all bore the insignia of the Third Combat Marine Regiment. She was home.


	7. Nova Prime

**At long last, another chapter. I'm sorry it's so short everybody.**

* * *

At first Stock thought that his battalion had been assigned a completely new tenno. This one was wrapped in a sleek, pearlescent sheath of dark slate colored metal, the frame distinctly female, the helm and face plate smooth and mirrored the same color as the body suit, the sleeves and leggings starting out the same dark slate as the body but fading to a pale blue. The whole frame in its entirety seemed to be clamped, soldered, and riveted together in gleaming gold filaments, and the boots encasing the feet had gleaming gold toes and heels.

He noted that several of the male marines seemed to have been reduced to drooling school boys, and even some of the females were openly staring, one or two attempting to hide their blushes. If he was honest with himself though he had to admit that the frame was rather beautiful.

Still, he couldn't help feeling slightly apprehensive. The first warframe had been so badly damaged protecting him and his squad that they had actually been able to see the faintly glowing tenno, Anya, operating the thing. When the dust from the fight had settled, he and his squad had been forced to remove her from the wreckage of the warframe. He himself had been tasked with carrying her back to the command post since none of the others had even been willing to touch her. Things had gone from bad to worse when they'd gotten her back to the command post, the commander had come unglued on seeing him holding the tenno in his arms. It had taken all of Anya's ability to beg and persuade to keep him and his whole unit from being sent straight to the firing squad.

"Stop gawking, marines!"

The order made the whole battalion jump to attention, and Stock heard a few breaths hitch as the frame turned gracefully to face the new voice. He clocked out at that point, he simply couldn't appreciate having a new tenno, if another frame was destroyed and another tenno lost then his unit would definitely face the firing squad. The whole debriefing went in one ear and out the other, his brain had gone into overdrive trying to see some way out if the worst should happen. He jumped again on noticing that things were moving again and the tenno in the warframe was standing there facing him expectantly.

"Tenno," he croaked, then started to fall into step with his fellow marines.

"Stock, wait…" That voice…

"Anya..?" Stock looked at her in disbelief, "I thought you were dead, I thought your frame overloading like it did…"

"Heh, gods no," she chuckled, falling into step beside him, "I couldn't walk for a couple of days, but that was it. They figured out why my frame fried its circuits and well, this is the new and slightly improved version."

"My dad would have liked to see this thing, you know," he sighed.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because he liked to work with his hands," Stock explained, "He liked metal work, built the bed frames for my brothers and me… I think that was why, even after everything, he still enjoyed his work."

"He sounds like a wonderful person," she said softly.

"He was," Stock answered, "He died a few years back."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said.

"It's alright, you didn't know," he said, then he stopped short, "Oh gods…"

"What?" she sounded concerned.

"I missed the whole debriefing," he admitted in a rush.

"You were standing right there," she giggled.

"I know, but… I thought they were assigning the battalion another tenno, I couldn't stop thinking about what would happen if another warframe was destroyed," he said.

"Stock, it's ok," she assured him, "The smith built this frame specifically for me, this thing has been tested so much that if it were going to crash like the last one it would have done it by now."

"I don't know the orders…" he informed her.

"That's fine, I'll tell you on the way," she said, and Stock could hear a smile in her voice.

"So what is this thing designated anyway?" he questioned once she'd gone over the operation for him a second time, "I mean, I've heard that your warframes have classes, what is yours?"

"This frame is a nova," she replied, "Remember how you were surprised that I glow when I'm not all clamped up in a box? That's because I'm partially made up of anti-matter. This frame makes holding my power in much easier on me, and it's better for the frame. The one before was a nova, but that was a prototype. It couldn't properly handle the weird mixture of matter and anti-matter, and that's why it crashed. Now I can do pretty much anything I want."

A quick drop of her body, bend of her knees, an elegant movement of her hands, and she was suddenly orbited by multiple golden orbs that gave off a faint glow the same soft pink he'd noticed the one time he'd seen her out of a warframe.

"What are those?" he wanted to know.

"The best way I can describe them is, they are anti-matter particles," she explained, "They are part of me in a way, anything that is my enemy is automatically their enemy. When I or an ally is threatened they will fly at the threat, and they can deliver a… a very nasty wound, to the point of ripping off chunks of flesh."

"They make you look like a star," he informed her.

"Well in a way I am, I'm a walking, talking, anti-matter charged star," she shrugged, "The particles are just as deadly as they were before though. I even know what they do, and it's still a bit of a shock sometimes to see them split something wide open. It was even worse with the prototype, I didn't dare use them for fear they'd hit someone they weren't supposed to. At least with this frame I have much more control over what they hit. So they're still deadly, but safe for anyone not a threat to me."

"And how does the frame help?" he asked.

"Well, before I was put into the first contraption, I couldn't avoid setting off explosions left and right, they had to keep me and all the others like me in special containment chambers because we blew things up on a regular basis," she said, "The first prototype was built out of desperation because the chambers they had only worked in the short term and anti-matter is quite volatile. The prototype couldn't handle the charge I carry, and after enough use it just locked up and fried. This one is better, it's attuned to my specific anti-matter signature and it can handle the daily wear and tear of having to contain me."

"But you can be out of it, at least sometimes, if you want to, right?" he clarified, "Things won't just explode randomly the minute you're out of the warframe?"

"No, they won't," she laughed, "The frame is a fully functional living unit, it takes care of everything I need it to do so I can live in it indefinitely, but I can get out of it if I need to. This one is more articulated than the prototype was, and if the frame is damaged enough to be life threatening to me the whole thing will release."

"That's a good thing," he told her, "I was afraid I was going to hurt you really badly getting you out of the first one with it seized up the way it was."

"Well it was split wide open, seized up or no it was pretty well ready to disintegrate," she chuckled, "I think if you'd given it a good kick it would have fallen into a pile of spare parts."

"Maybe," he gave in, "Anya?"

"Yeah?" she faced him.

"I'm glad you're back," he said.

"Me too, Stock," she smiled.


End file.
